I know that I’m perfectly safe, in a locked house with two gun-toting government agents down the hall, but I’m instantly afraid. The room is too dark. The night is too still. What’s on the screen in front of me is too shocking. I’m so creeped out that I start to consider that I’m being watched. I log off like lightning and then hurry out of the office, across the hall, and into my bed.
Only then, when I’m burrowed down deep under the covers, do I think about what I saw.
There were twenty-one people on the bus.
I just met Case 22.
twenty-two
A car horn wakes me up.
Completely foggy, I turn my eyes to the clock on my nightstand. Somehow, despite my stupor, my brain registers that it’s 7:32 AM. Suddenly, I’m awake. I fling off the covers, run to the window, and see Matt’s car sitting in the driveway with Audrey up front. Right then a text message comes through from Audrey.
Audrey: Almost ready? We’re here.
Daisy: I heard… give me five?
Audrey: No problem
I run to the dresser and yank fresh underwear and a bra from the top drawer. I strip my pajamas off and pull on my skivvies, then grab yesterday’s jeans from the floor. I rush to the closet and rip the first shirt I see off its hanger: It’s a bright blue peasant top that falls off my shoulders a bit. I don’t really love it, but it’s what I’m wearing.
I glance at the clock. It’s 7:34.
I slip into black flats and race to the bathroom, where I pee while simultaneously brushing my teeth, then pull my hair into a high ponytail that actually looks okay. I put blush on my cheeks and eyelids and then nearly poke my eye out trying to apply mascara too quickly. After a stop in my bedroom to grab my bag, I make it to the car at 7:38, breathless and a little sweaty.
“Sorry,” I say to the McKean siblings as I slide into the backseat. It feels weird to be back here instead of in the passenger seat.
“No problem,” Audrey says, smiling brightly.
Matt glances at me in the mirror as he backs out of the driveway.
“Did you oversleep?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I admit. “Total insomnia. I probably got about two hours.”
“Well, you can’t tell,” he says warmly, which makes both Audrey and me smile.
“Thanks,” I say, feeling my cheeks turn pink.
Matt turns on the radio and it’s an upbeat love song that makes it hard not to smile the whole way to school. At least he’s smiling, too.
I spend the day alternating between conflicting feelings. I’m optimistic about Audrey’s high spirits and positively cheerful when I think of Matt’s kisses and kind words. I’m panicked about Case 22, but exasperated because I can’t put my finger on what exactly I’m afraid of. I’m relieved to have shared secrets with Matt, but ashamed because I know Mason would be disappointed if he knew about it.
But mostly, I’m lifted by the fact that Matt and I have a new, strong connection.
In English, I can feel that connection across the room. In the halls, we’re in color and everyone else is in black-and-white. In the noisy cafeteria, I hear everything he says as clearly as if I’m wearing earbuds and he’s my playlist.
Audrey notices it, too.
“Not to be gross or anything, but did you and my brother do it or something?” she whispers in the hallway between fifth and sixth periods.
“What?” I say, shocked. “No! Oh my god, no!”
“Okay,” she says, laughing and holding up her hands. “I get it. You didn’t. You two just seem overly gooey today.”
“Oh,” I say, turning to face my locker, embarrassed. “We had some nice conversations yesterday.” I feel bad about lying to Audrey, but Matt’s right: It’s not fair to tell her about Revive.
“I see,” she says, eyeing me skeptically. “Conversations about doing—”
“Audrey!” I shout, laughing. “Shut up!”
“Fine, fine,” she says. “But for the record, I think you’re lying.”
“And for the record, I think you’re nutso.”
“Well, you’re probably right on that one,” Audrey says, flipping her lovely hair off her shoulder and beaming at me. Her teeth are bright white and her dark eyes are sparkling; her skin looks perfect against the lavender shirt she’s wearing. She’s the most perfect version of herself in this everyday moment.
It makes me queasy to think that she might not have much time left.
When Matt and Audrey drop me off after school, I grab a snack and head down to the basement to check in. With Mason and Cassie having been gone, and with my having rushed out of the house this morning, I haven’t really talked to Mason in days. But when I open the door at the top of the stairs, I realize that the lights are out; nobody’s home. Apple and energy bar in hand, I turn and run upstairs to the office: This is my chance for a closer look at Case 22.
Even though Mason’s okay with me checking out the Revive files and Cassie tolerates it because she has to, I’m on high alert, feeling like I’m doing something wrong. And yet, I retrace my steps from last night, accessing the recently updated files from the directory.
I glance through the case numbers and open the last one accessed, but it’s Gavin’s, not Case 22. I go back and try again.
My stomach sinks even before my brain realizes what’s happening.
I refresh the screen.
Then I refresh it again.
I navigate to another screen and then back.
Like a hacker on a mission, I work different angles until a door closes downstairs and I snap out of it. I log off and cross the hall to my room, confused.
I know what I saw yesterday.
I know the unsettled feeling it gave me today.
But as hard as I look, right now I can’t find it.
Case 22 is gone.
twenty-three
It’s been two weeks with no answers or even leads, and I’ve managed to bulldoze my worries about Case 22 into a corner of my brain. It’s not that I’m not burning with curiosity; it’s that I know that I’ll have to ask Mason if I want to find out more. And the truth is that Mason’s no dummy. If I tell him about Case 22, he’ll want details.
What was in the file?
How did you find it?
When did you last see it?
“When” is what scares me the most. I’ll have to tell him it was the night he came back from Kansas City and Matt was at our house. And then, Mason being the actual smartest person I know, he’ll get what I did: He’ll know I told Matt about Revive. So, instead of implicating myself, I decide to embrace my new life and try to ignore the program until I can figure out how to research Case 22 without Mason’s help.
In the meantime, I’m starting to feel like I was born and raised in Omaha and have known the McKeans since birth. Matt, Audrey, and I carpool to school every morning and hang out every afternoon. Audrey and I can finish each other’s sentences, and she even helps me come up with great blog topics like “What’s worse: Sunday night or Monday morning?” and “Gym teachers: Friend or Foe?”
Even better, Audrey seems to be feeling good, which somehow makes it okay that I’m feeling amazing. Although Matt and I don’t talk about Revive, the way he watches for bees when we eat lunch outside tells me that it’s always on his mind. We hold hands in the halls at school and text or chat until late every night, and more and more, I know that our relationship is way beyond crush status.
I’ve got a best friend and a boyfriend, and it’s fine by me that they’ve got the same last name.
On the Thursday before my birthday, Audrey and I eat lunch in the cafeteria because Matt’s got a dentist appointment.
“I love my brother, but it’s nice to have a break from him once in a while,” Audrey says before taking a bite of yogurt.
“Yeah, it’s nice to have some girl time,” I say, smiling at her.
“So, Dais, do you love my brother?” she asks, eyes shining.
“You and your questions!” I shout. ?
??Oh my god!” I redden as Audrey giggles. “And for the record, I only love my other boyfriend. You wouldn’t know him; he lives in the Niagara Falls area,” I joke, ripping off a line from The Breakfast Club, which Audrey and I streamed last weekend. We teased Matt about having Judd Nelson hair. Of course Matt’s is way better.
“Oh, yeah?” Audrey plays along. “Is he hot?”
“The hottest!” I squeal. An entire group of girls one table over turns to see what’s happening. When they go back to their lunches, we resume our conversation.
“What about you?” I ask seriously. “You never talk about any guys besides celebrities.”
“What’s the point?” Audrey says in a rare moment of defeatism. Then she bounces back. “Anyway, most of the true hotties graduated. Oh, man, like Bear Williams. He looks like a young Jake.”
“You’re Gyll-obsessed,” I joke. “And Bear? That can’t be his real name.”
“It is. I swear.”
“I don’t know how anyone could take him seriously with a name like Bear.”
“That’s because you’ve never seen Bear Williams. Maybe I’ll invite him to your birthday event.”
I choke on a baby carrot.
“Excuse me?” I ask. “My birthday what?”
“Your birthday event,” Audrey says. “Don’t try to pretend that your sweet sixteen isn’t on Saturday, Daisy West.”
“What are you going to do?” I ask, a little afraid, but mostly flattered.
“You’ll have to wait and see,” Audrey says cryptically. “I mean, it’s not a party or anything, but I think you’ll like it.”
“That’s really nice of you,” I say.
“Well, it’s not all me,” Audrey admits. “My brother might have told a little white lie about where he is right now.”
My stomach flips as I start to ponder what the McKean siblings could possibly be planning for me.
Saturday morning, Mason makes me pancakes with candles and gives me an iTunes gift card and a voucher for driving lessons. Cassie hands over a store-bought greeting card with twenty dollars inside.
“Thanks, you guys,” I say. “This is really sweet.”
“Well, you only turn sixteen once,” Mason says, smiling genuinely.
“Happy birthday,” Cassie says before retreating to the basement to work. Mason calls after her that he’ll be down in a minute.
“So, how’s everything going?” he asks when we’re alone.
“Fine,” I say.
“You seem to be spending a lot of time with Audrey,” Mason says. He coughs once. “And her brother.”
“Yeah,” I say, turning pink. Mason looks a little uncomfortable, but he presses on.
“Is he a good guy?” he asks. “Is he nice to you?”
“Yes,” I say, fighting a grin. “He’s nice to me. You’d like him. You should get to know him better.”
“And Audrey?” Mason asks, changing the subject. I know Mason views people outside the program as audience members for his elaborate performance, not as friends. I can tell that he’s still worried that I’m going to share too much. It makes me feel a little guilty that I already have.
“Audrey seems to be doing better,” I say, shrugging it off. “She looks a lot better and acts like she has more energy.” I smile, trying to make myself believe.
“That’s good,” Mason says. He opens his mouth to say something else, then closes it again. Having known him for so long, I can read his mind: I know he wants to tell me not to be naïve about cancer. But it’s my birthday, so he holds back. Finally, instead he says, “Well, I should go down before Cassie blows a fuse.”
I snort into my water glass at Mason’s reference to Cassie, the machine.
“Good luck with that,” I say.
“Thanks,” Mason says, grinning at me. He takes a step toward the door before turning back. “Hey, kid, happy birthday, again. You’ve grown into… Well, I’m proud of you.”
Mason walks over and kisses me on the head before quickly going downstairs, leaving me feeling full of love and admiration for the parent I would have picked anyway. Even if he wasn’t assigned to me.
With everyone accounted for, I go to the office and search for the bazillionth time for the mysterious Case 22 file, reasoning that maybe since it’s my birthday, I’ll find it.
No luck.
So, I shower and get ready, then call Audrey.
“When’s this event starting?” I ask.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.”
In honor of my special day, Audrey’s mom lets her drive solo so we can have some girl time. Audrey picks me up in her happy car and takes me to the mall for coffee, pedicures, and the cute T-shirt of my choice (I select a supersoft tee with a pop art Einstein on it—which looks a lot cooler than it sounds). After that, we head back to Audrey’s house to change for what she calls the real present.
“Put this on,” Audrey says as she hits me in the face with an unidentified article of clothing. I’m brushing my hair at her vanity; she’s buried in her closet, trying to find exactly the right outfit.
“Uh…” I say, taking in the royal blue tank dress.
“What?” Audrey asks. “It’ll make your eyes pop. And you can’t wear jeans. It’s a special occasion!”
“I guess,” I say, frowning at the dress.
“Don’t you like it?” she asks. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“No, it’s not that,” I say. “It’s really cute. I just don’t wear a lot of dresses.”
“Well, you should,” Audrey says warmly before throwing silver leggings and a cropped black jacket at me. I give in and get dressed. She emerges with ankle boots in her hands, which, thankfully, she doesn’t throw at me.
“See!” she shouts when I’m dressed. “The blue is awesome with your eyes.” She grabs my shoulders and wheels me around to face the mirror. “You look like a model. Matt is going to die.”
“Thanks, Aud.”
“No problem,” she says. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go borrow one of my mom’s necklaces.”
I sit back down at Audrey’s vanity and use some of her makeup. Just as I’m applying a little light pink blush, I hear movement in the hallway. I turn to see Matt passing by on his way to the shower. He’s carrying a towel and, as usual when he’s at home, he’s barefoot.
Our eyes meet.
“Wow,” he says softly. We hold each other’s stare for so long it feels dirty—in a good way. Neither of us says anything else, which makes it even more powerful. His eyes take in my hair, my exposed shoulder where the jacket is falling down on one side. We’re a room away from each other and I can feel his eyes on me like fingertips.
“Move it along,” I hear Audrey say to him from the hallway. “Drool later.”
The bubble burst, Matt grins sheepishly and turns away.
The “real” gift is third-row tickets to Arcade Fire.
“It’s like an eclipse,” I say about the chances of my favorite band playing in town on my birthday. “Or a meteor shower.”
“It’s pretty awesome,” Matt says as he watches the roadies set up.
Even though I thought she was joking, Audrey did actually invite Bear to the show. I glance over at them and silently agree that okay, fine, he does look a little like Jake Gyllenhaal.
But still he’s not as cute as Matt.
“This is the most amazing birthday ever,” I say in Matt’s ear.
“You deserve it,” he says in mine before kissing my neck and leaving me with head-to-toe goose bumps.
As the opening act begins to play, when the bass and the drums and the guitar and the screaming make it too loud to hear shouting let alone my whispered voice, I say, “I love you.” I know he can’t hear me, but I put it out into the universe anyway.
And for now, that’s enough.
twenty-four
The next Friday, I realize that nothing can stay perfect forever.
Audrey goes home sick from
school, and even though I talk to her after fourth period and she seems fine, I’m still concerned.
And then Matt and I have our first fight.
It happens after school, when I’m packing for a four-day trip to Seattle. I’m joining Mason and Cassie on their annual pilgrimage to the Northwest for Fabulous Megan’s test. They’ll poke and prod during the day, and Megan and I will have bonding time at night. As much as I love being around Matt and Audrey, I can’t wait to just “be” with Megan. There’s something about spending time with someone who’s known you forever. It’s effortless.
Matt sits on the bed while I pack.
“It sucks that you’ll be gone this weekend,” he says.
“I know. But I’m really excited to see Megan. I haven’t seen her since last year.”
“I’ll miss you,” he says with a flirty smile that I feel to my toes. Smiling, I look back to the T-shirt I’m folding. He grabs one and folds, too.
“Hey, Dais?” Matt says. My stomach flits at the way he shortens my name. I love it.
“Uh-huh?” I murmur, folding happily like we’re an old married couple doing the laundry together.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Oh, yeah? What’s that?”
“It’s a favor.” Matt looks away and, strangely, I don’t take it as a warning. I’m too lost in my fantasy of us playing house.
“Anything for you,” I say. “Ask away.”
And then my fantasy crumbles.
“I want you to steal Revive.”
To say I’m caught off guard is the understatement of the century: I’m a lottery winner who didn’t buy a ticket. Except that would be a good surprise.
This is not.
I’m completely silent for at least three minutes. It would be beyond awkward if there weren’t so many thoughts barreling through my brain, not the least of which is a question: Over these past few weeks, when Matt’s seemed to be falling for me, was it real? Or was he only buttering me up for this favor?